


Taking Back My Armour

by Never_judge_a_book_by_its_movie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:15:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_judge_a_book_by_its_movie/pseuds/Never_judge_a_book_by_its_movie
Summary: Sometimes memories can be your happiest dreams, but for Rosie, her memories were her nightmares. Plaguing her thoughts and haunting her heart, she is left a damsel in distress once more.With her demons chasing her, how long will it take for them to catch her? How long can she keep running?Scared to let herself love again, will she find her knight in shining armour? Or will she be trapped in and endless vortex of misery and loneliness, letting the only person who can stop the horror slip through her fingers





	1. Part 1

Part 1

ROSIE  
I didn't look back. I just ran. My legs felt like lead as I raced through the streets, hearing my footsteps echoing down the lonely roads. No one was in sight. No one was here to help me. The streets were dead. I was alone. Alone and afraid. I thought I heard hurried footsteps close behind me, but I didn't look. I didn't dare look. I was too afraid the barrel of that gun would be the last thing I saw if I did. I just kept running. My head was thudding, my breathing was short and ragged, and I had no idea as to where I was going. Rounding the corner to a road lined with white houses, I slipped as I turned sharply, grazing my knee on the shard-like gravel. Hissing as the blood started to seep out of my skin, I pushed the pain away and forced myself up. My knee was throbbing, but I couldn't risk slowing down. He would catch me.   
I hurtled down the street hoping someone would see me, but there was no one.  
My body grew tired, cold and breathless as I started to slow. I couldn't stop. I had to keep running. But to where? Where could I possibly go now that he was gone?   
There was a light. In the emptiness of the street, the light of someone's home caught my eye. It was the only light on within the next few houses. Help. People. Safety.  
An eruption of hope burst inside me, refusing to let me look back. I ran up the few steps and started banging frantically on the front door, my knuckles surely to be bruised in the morning. That is if I make it until morning. "Please, please, please." I chanted to myself as prayed someone would answer. He'd be here. He'd find me and kill me too. Please answer the door.  
Then there was a jangle of keys, a click of the handle and the door swung open. Safe.

Fluttering my eyes open, I was quick to close them after being blinded by a ray of sun glaring in through the window. My eyelashes were matted with sleep as I blinked a few times to allow my eyes to adjust to the brightness. I watched the dust motes dance in the wall of light that cut the room in half. I really needed to start shutting the curtains properly. My mind was still fuzzy, the last remnants of my dream being chased away by the realisation that I was awake again. However, it wasn't a dream. It was a memory, coming back to haunt me, not letting me forget. Most nights were like this. After a happy day filled with me trying to make a new life and make new memories, the nights were where my past could dictate my thoughts, infiltrate my brain and corrupt it like a virus plaguing the parts of me that wanted to forget. It had been nearly a year. I doubt they would let me forget for quite some time.  
I wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep, but it was too late. My brain was awake and already demanding food. I chuckled to myself as I lifted my head and looked down; the duvet was only covering my legs, my naked torso exposed to the breeze blowing in from under the door. The only thing covering me was an arm hung loosely over my waist. I looked at the man sleeping soundly next to me, a smile spreading across my face as I admired his unconscious state. I wonder what he was dreaming about? As long as he was having happy dreams, unlike those my head liked to surprise me with. His raven hair, soon to be straightened when he woke, was a mess of unruly curls strewn across his forehead. His lips slightly parted, shallow breaths escaping them. His delicate yet sharp features, complimented by flawless contours of a paling tan. How beautiful he was.  
Reluctantly, I tore my eyes from him, knowing he would wake up soon enough, and gently lifted his arm over me. I stood, naked, searching for my clothes that had been thrown across the room in an erratic hurry last night. I found my underwear, but was unable to depict the blackness of both our clothes and ended up picking up Dan's eclipse t-shirt. Quietly closing the bedroom door behind me, I made my way to the kitchen, careful to open the glass door rather than walk into it. I realised that my legs were bare, the t-shirt falling to my upper thigh, but Dan definitely wouldn't mind and Phil - Dan's roommate - was used to seeing me in my lazy morning status.  
Taking three mugs from the cupboard, I filled the kettle then gazed out of the window. I had gotten used to this morning routine: waking up just before the two of them, making tea then waiting for them. It sounded boring, but I cherished every day I woke up here. As I stared at the tree outside in a dazed state, I thanked my lucky stars for transforming my life.  
You see, most of my childhood had consisted of me clutching my teddy bear at the top of the stairs whilst listening to my parents scream at each other. I had no other siblings. I had been alone from the start. As I got older, I understood how their marriage worked. I was a, what's the saying, a fix-it-up-baby. That means I was supposed to salvage their marriage, but ended up driving it deeper into the abyss of destruction it was on the borderline of to start with. My mother was depressed and my dad an alcoholic. He never beat me, nor did he beat her, but he was rarely around to have the time to. I remember living off milk and cheese sandwiches for a week, as it was all I could make at the age of seven. Eventually, mum turned into a zombie-like creature, waking up, making me food and disappearing into her room whilst dad was out fucking Hillary or Beverly or whoever. This all stopped when I was twelve. Mum was out, god knows where doing god knows what, and my dad was in his room. I was hungry, in need of something more than cheese so I went upstairs to fetch him. There, in his room, I saw him and a woman - who wasn't my mother - in bed. He saw me. He shouted at me. He scared me. So I ran away. I finally built up the courage to slam the door behind me and never look at it again. At twelve years old, I had no home, no family and no idea of what to do. Until my knight in shining armour rode in on his stallion and swept me off my feet. Well, in reality, a boy of 16 whose family owned the local pub found me, took pity on me, and ended up loving me.   
Before the confusion sets in, no, that boy wasn't Dan. That boy is the reason for my nightmares, my panic attacks and my anxiety. But still, my knight in shining armour nonetheless.   
Dragged from my reminiscing by the click of the kettle, I focussed then on making three cups of tea. Still a little dreary from my slumber, I failed to hear Dan enter the kitchen, his presence being made known to me when he wrapped his arms around my waist, his bare torso pressing up against my back and his head resting on my shoulder. He muttered a 'good morning' into my neck and I giggled from the tickles of his voice in reply. I dwelt in the hot feeling of his lips peppering my neck and shoulders in kisses, the softness of his hair as it caressed my skin, the way he swayed side-to-side, me swaying rhythmically with him. For a moment, it felt like we were perfect. As if nothing could take away what we had. But I was wrong.  
Dan needed more than what I could give him. He deserved better. For I would never be able to fulfil his need for love or feelings. Although I did love him, I was almost certain of it, I could never tell him. I could never hurt him like that. Because for me, admitting that I love someone puts them at risk of the inevitable hurt it will cause them. After last time, I wasn't going to take that chance. I most certainly wasn't going to put Dan's heart on the line. He was so sweet, so innocent. If I broke down the only barrier that was between us, he would be in danger of my past that I have managed to keep from him for a year. He didn't need to know. He deserved not to know. The only man I had ever loved other than Dan was murdered. And it was all because of me.

DAN  
Familiar noises of running water and the clattering of crockery woke me from my sleep. Keeping my eyes closed I did my best to chase after the pictures I wished were a reality. The dream of Rosie and me running away together. Running away from her world I knew she was trapped in. Me taking care of her and her letting me love her. The details faded the more I tried to remember them, so, with a sigh, I rolled onto my back admitting my defeat in the wake of reality. Looking next to me, she was gone, just like she was every morning. Also, just like every morning, my stomach dropped and I felt a sense of panic and despair, as for a spilt-second, I thought she had left me, ran away from me, leaving me on my own. It isn't until I recalled the noises she made in the kitchen that I could settle, as with Rosie, the chance of her taking off and me never seeing her again was high. I knew she was lost, afraid of the future and afraid of committing to me, but I didn't know why. For as much as I loved her and as much as we laughed together, spent time together, and talked together, I knew nothing of her life before we met. That scared, trembling girl standing on my doorstep was still evident in her. Although over the last year I had seen her grow stronger, there was still an iciness in her eyes. The one I knew she wanted to melt and be free from, but she never could.   
Huffing, I sat up on the edge of my bed and looked to the floor for my boxers, which I found hanging on the back of my desk chair. I chuckled to myself as I pulled them on, remembering the previous night. Oh, how perfect she was. Her skin against mine, tangled up together all night, the heat of her body still tingling against my skin. Every morning after a night like that I thanked the universe for guiding her to me. But also, every morning after a night like that, I wondered if she felt the same. For, sometimes, I felt like she used me, used sex as a way to fill whatever void she had inside of her. Whatever she was missing or had lost. Something that I knew she hadn't yet filled.   
Venturing into the kitchen, she stood there, the pale skin of her legs glowing against the blackness of my shirt. Smirking, I wrapped my arms around her small frame and held her in my arms, thanking my lucky stars that she was still here. 

A sudden thumping at the door tore my attention from the computer screen. I waited to see if Phil would get it, but remembered he was filming something. So with a frustrated sigh, I shifted myself from my sofa crease and reluctantly trudged downstairs to answer the door. The knocker was persistently banging on the wood, so I made an effort to jingle my keys in the hopes that they would hear me adhering to them. Unlocking and opening the door, there stood a girl before me with white hair that brushed her shoulders and tearful grey eyes, the wetness making them sparkle in the street lights. She was very pretty at first glance, but all I could pay attention to was the panic and fear on her face. The way her eyes screamed with terror. Her skin was paling to a translucent white, the only form of life showing being the rosiness of her cheeks from the cold and the quick shallow breaths that caused the air to fog in front of her.   
She looked up at me, her mouth open, but no words coming out.  
"Can I help you?" I asked, prompting her to speak and trying to be as un-awkward as possible.  
"Erm..." The sound was weak as a million different things raced behind her eyes. Her distressed demeanour was worrying. What if she is a decoy, distracting me, for her gang to surprise attack and raid my house? The way she was constantly glancing down the street with nervous eyes, told me that, somehow, she was genuine. "There's someone chasing me and it would be a real help if you could let me in." She said and I just stood there. Not only because I couldn't quite comprehend the situation, but because I was still somewhat reluctant to believe her. "Please." She added, her voice ragged and trembling. "Please... help me... please." I could see the desperation on her face. She was cold. Scared. Alone.   
Ignoring all the raging possibilities of her being a serial killer, I opened the door further and she quickly stepped through it. I took that as a sign to shut it and lock it just as quick. Turning to face her, she leant against the wall, looking up at the ceiling with a great sense of relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She said, her eyes opening to look at me. With some of the terror missing from them, I began to appreciate just how intense and beautiful her eyes were. Stop it, Dan, you don't even know her.  
"Um... No problem. I'm Dan." I said, holding my hand out to her. She looked at it for a second and I could see her contemplating quickly in her head. As if an impulsive decision, she reached out and took it, her hand icy and rough against mine. I almost flinched away by the stinging sensation the coldness caused my warm skin, but I felt her hand relax in mine as my heat warmed her fingers. She gave a small smile and chewed at her chapped bottom lip before replying,  
"Rosie." 

I didn't let go of her once she had made the tea, instead, I spun her around so she was pressed against the counter. She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck, grinning, her blinding smile making me fall further for her. Leaning down to her, me being over half a foot taller, our lips melted together, revelling in the fire of her touch as her lips moved effortlessly against mine. We were so lost in each other, that we only noticed Phil after he spoke.  
"Get a room." He muttered with a roll of his eyes, leaving with his cup of tea. Rosie and I looked at each other, her biting back a smile with blushing cheeks and me openly grinning with a fondness for her.   
"I love you." I said and didn't miss the flash of panic in her eyes. Her smile not faltering, however, she let her lip roll out from her bite and knotted her fingers into my hair in an attempt to distract me. She knew her messing with my hair was a certain weakness I had, but she didn't know I knew it was her way of distracting me.  
"I know." She said, her voice hushed, before she reconnected her lips with mine. As I kissed her back, I felt slightly disappointed. Every time I said it, I convinced myself she would say it back. But she never did. Deep down, I knew she loved me, but it hurt me that she didn't say it. Why wouldn't she want me to know? She didn't want to love me and it hurt. Unable to fathom why, I decided to push the thought away, letting my mind drift into to the wonder of her kiss.

ROSIE  
The rough bark of the pine tree scratched at my face as I rested my entire body weight upon it. My body was too tired, too emotionally drained to support itself. As I watched the bundle of people dressed in black, from the tree-line, I was sort of glad I couldn't go over. I didn't want people to see how weak his death had made me. To see how broken I was without him. Hiding behind this tree allowed me to barricade myself from familiar faces, letting me mourn on my own.  
My main reason, however, for hiding was because Jimmy was there. If he saw me, if he found me, he'd kill me. Just how he had killed the man in the coffin. He didn't deserve to be there. He was the reason everyone else had to be there. No tears fell from his emotionless eyes. How could he stand there? Did he have no respect? His best friend of twenty years was lying in a coffin because of him. My best friend was lying in a coffin because of him. Sometimes, I wished I was taller, stronger than him so I could beat him. Watch the life drain from his eyes just like I had watched Ryan's after Jimmy had shot him. And instead of crying, as I had with Ryan, I would laugh.  
But I was not bigger than him. He towered over me, his muscles were twice the size of mine. I would have no chance. Also, behind all the rage and anger I felt towards him, what would be the point? Killing Jimmy wouldn't bring Ryan back. I was a damsel in distress once more, with no knight to rescue me this time.  
Hiding in the refuge of Dan's apartment, too scared to come outside and face him. Though it would only be a matter of time, because as I stood there in the trees, watching Ryan's friends, family and killer mourn him, the disposable phone in my pocket would be the one to later call the police and tell them it was Jimmy. Whether or not they would find evidence to convict him would be down to the autopsy, but I figured a life stuck behind bars, where I knew I would never have to face him, where I knew he would cry himself to sleep every night for killing a man who was so close to perfection. The endless pain he would feel in there. Not being able to run away from it. Having to come to terms with what he had done. He deserved to hurt like I was hurting. 

The people slowly started to disperse, leaving Jimmy standing on his own. I stayed and watched him. It was then, once everyone had left that he collapsed to his knees and screamed, his hands tearing at his hair. I smiled sinisterly to myself. This is how he should feel every day for the rest of his pathetic existence. But that was not going to happen. As the next thing I watched him do was pull that gun out from the inside of his jacket, that all too familiar gun that was once pointed at me. That gun that had killed Ryan. All at the hand of the bastard who held it now. I couldn't breathe as I watched him press it to his own temple, hand trembling as he did. Then before pulling the trigger, he twisted his torso and looked directly at me. His cold, dull eyes finding my lost ones.   
He was dead before the gunshot reached my ears. It was a violent assault to the still of the November morning - a noise that heralded destruction. It broke the air in stark contrast to the voice of the birds that rang out in this dawn and the oblivious nature that surrounded me as I hid amongst the trees.  
I felt no sorrow, no pain as I stared at his limp body bleeding out into the damp land. I only felt more rage. More anger. He would never feel how I did. He would never have to live a life of regret for the murder of someone who once referred to him as a brother. He was a coward. A cold-hearted, lonely little coward.

Jolting upright, it took me a few seconds to realise where I was, my brain still forcing me to see surroundings of the forest and the lifeless body on the ground before me. But no, I was safe in Dan's lounge, the warmth of his shoulder still tingling on my cheek. He was looking at me confused, finger paused mid-scroll on the track-pad of his laptop.  
"Are you okay?" He said, trying to be as light-hearted as possible, even though I could tell he was worried. He was used to me waking up in a panic like this. And he was used to me not giving him an answer.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a weird dream." I laughed - unamused -, running a hand through my hair, and taking a deep breath. I was okay. I was safe. I had Dan. He wasn't convinced. He never was, but he respected my decision not to tell him enough not to pry any further. I knew he was disappointed, I knew he was hurt, but I couldn't tell him. My body physically wouldn't let the words come out of my mouth. "I'm just gonna nip to the loo." I said before standing up and placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. He smiled weakly as I left the room.   
Dashing down the stairs to the toilet, I pressed myself against the door, making sure it was locked, before sliding down the One Direction poster stuck to the wood and crumbling into a crying mess on the floor.

"Is everything okay? Do you need us to call the police?" Phil asked once he had come out of his room to see what the disturbance was. The two boys stood towering over me, a mixture of concern and confusion crossing their faces. I tried to stay calm in front of them. I couldn't break down. Not yet.  
"No! It's fine, it'll be okay now." I assured them. They didn't look completely convinced, but they didn't pry any further into the matter.  
"Have you got anyone we could call? Parents? Friends?" Dan asked and I thought... where could I go? I hadn't seen my parents in eight years; they were probably long gone. All my friends were Ryan's friends, simultaneously Jimmy's friends, so they were off the list. I had no one. Literally no one. I was on my own. The tears started to well in my eyes as the realisation kicked in. Ryan had been my everything, he had been the gravity to my world for so long, and I was now floating off into a world of panic and confusion.  
"Um... no... I..." My breathing eradicated and a single tear fell down my cheek. I had nowhere to go. Dan looked at Phil, the two of them seeming to communicate telepathically as my hands tugged at my hair in distress. Dan stepped forward, placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at me so intently that for a second I was able to calm myself, arms falling to my sides and my breaths holding themselves back as I was soothed by the calming comfort of his brown eyes.  
"It's okay. You can spend the night here. You're safe now." He had said, and as he did, a flash flickered across my brain, too quick for me to capture it. The image of my new knight. With new armour. My new saviour.   
A smile broke onto my face, feeling like it didn't belong there. It shouldn't belong there after everything I had just witnessed, but in that moment, I was too grateful of the two of them for letting a mess of a stranger into their home. Before I could stop myself, I had wrapped my arms around Dan's waist, my face pressing into his chest, tears dampening the material of his shirt. He seemed shocked, but just chuckled and hugged me back.  
"Thank you. Thank you so much." I sobbed into his shirt. I heard Phil laugh behind me before he joined in the hug as well. I was warm, I was happy, I was safe. For some strange reason, I felt as if nothing bad could happen whilst I was here, barricaded in the safety of stranger's arms.   
But then it dawned: they were strangers. Kind and perfect strangers, but strangers nonetheless. I was still alone.  
The light and warmth of the hug were suddenly washed away by the image of a man laying lifeless in a bloodstained jumper whilst the man next to him struggled to regain consciousness. The man that held the gun in his hand. The man that, if I didn't run, wouldn't hesitate to shoot me down next to the one I loved. The man I was still running from.   
Pulling away from the two of them, I wiped my cheeks and smiled, them smiling back at me as they took in my appearance.  
"Come down to the bathroom and I'll sort that knee out for you." Dan said frowning at the gash that was causing my leg to throb.   
"Thank you. Could I use the loo first?" I asked and Dan had lead me downstairs to the room with the toilet. I smiled gratefully at him, closing the door behind me. There was a full length One Direction poster stuck to the inside of it, it's randomness making me giggle, but as I stared at the colours of it, the poster faded to black, and curled up on the floor of the small room and cried. Cried harder than I ever had as the realisation hit: Ryan was dead. Not an hour ago were we cuddled up in the basement and now he was gone. My rock, my guardian angel, my knight in shining armour had been reduced to an empty suit crumbling along with my heart.

The all too familiar feeling of me sobbing into my knees in this exact space was a dull drilling in the pit of my stomach. A year ago, I had been in this exact same spot, doing the exact same thing, but this time I had more to cry about. Not only was the death of Ryan still extremely vivid, clouding my happiness with the loss of him, but now I had Dan to lose as well. And I would surely lose him. I mean, who would put up with me? Keeping secrets, having furtive panic attacks in the bathroom, constantly living in fear of hurting him, but not wanting to let him go. Dan didn't deserve to put up with that. He needed someone who could love him better than I can. He deserved so much better than me.

DAN  
The air was thick and hot as we lay there breathless. Our bodies sticky with sweat, hair matted to my forehead and the duvet in a ball at our feet, I looked to her. The way her hair was strewn across the pillow in a tangled mess, the rosiness of her cheeks and her swollen lips. She looked back at me and smiled, leaning forward to kiss me, then pulled away far too soon with a smirk on her face. Tease.   
Wanting to break the silence, I tried to think of a way to approach a certain situation. She'd been here for a year now, and we'd been spontaneously fucking for the best part of it, yet I barely knew anything about her. I mean, I knew about her now, her likes, dislikes, favourite books, music taste and all that kind of stuff. But I didn't know anything about her family or anything that had happened in her life. I hardly knew anything about the first night she stayed with us. That night when she was crying in the toilet - the place where she still goes to cry now, where she went to cry earlier on today. It killed me to know I couldn't help her, save her from the demons inside her head.  
"Rosie," I caught her attention as I started to twirl a lock of her hair between my fingers.  
"Yeah?" She replied, her eyes running over my face with a certain fondness.  
"You don't have to answer, but what happened to your parents?" I asked, remembering back to the night she arrived. She had nowhere to go, so presumably, something must've happened to her parents. Or between her and her parents. I could tell she was panicking as she started to gnaw at her bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. I sighed, and looked away from her, not wanting to force her to answer, but feeling disappointed that she didn't.   
We lay there, the silence growing awkward. I didn't know what I had expected. Why should this time have been any different to all the other times I've asked her?   
"I ran away from home when I was pretty young." She said suddenly, surprising me from my trail of doubt towards her. "My mum was depressed and didn't look after me. My dad was a cheating alcoholic who spent more time in the pub than with me. One day I bottled up the nerve to leave. I haven't seen them since." Her voice held no real emotion, almost robotic as she stared blankly at the ceiling. I couldn't think of what to say. Did I pry further? Did I leave it at that? I didn't want to push her too far. I decided one more question couldn't hurt her too much, I mean, she's told me this much already.  
"How long has it been since you left?"   
"Nine years." She didn't even think about it. As if she's held that number in her head for so long, been counting the days for so long. It rolled straight off her tongue with no emotion. She didn't seem upset about leaving them, but nine years! Imagine not seeing your parents for nine years. I thought seeing them once every six months was too little.  
I was proud of her for opening up, I knew it was hard for her, otherwise she'd have told me sooner. Most of all I was grateful. Now I knew she trusted me a little, but my willingness to endure her emotional detachment to me was wearing thin. I just hoped I could hold on long enough for her to let me love her.


	2. Part 2

Part 2

ROSIE  
It was times like this when it felt like nothing could go wrong. Wrapped in the warmth of the one person who owned my heart and soul as we cuddled up on the worn out sofa in the basement of the pub. All the unease and the tension from upstairs washed away with the comfort of feeling like nothing bad could happen because he wouldn't let it.   
Oh, how I was wrong.  
BANG!  
Both of us jolted upright to the sound of the basement door slamming open. I looked a Ryan and was washed with fear when I saw the colour drain from his eyes. Panic set in as Ryan pulled us from the sofa and over to the shelves down the back of the room. Organised like a library, we were able to hide behind them, Ryan pulling me to his chest against the far wall. Through the crates of beer and liquors on the shelves barricading us from the chaos storming down the stairs, I watched as two men stumbled through the door, dragging a struggling body behind them. I recognised one of the men as Jimmy who stood intimidatingly over the cowering man on the floor.   
It was when Ryan raised his hand to cover my mouth, did I realise how ragged and loud my breathing must have been. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the delivery door which leads into the back alley. Our only chance of escape. We could sneak out. They wouldn't see us. But judging from the way Ryan and I were frozen in place, neither of us were willing to take that chance.   
The sound of my heart beating in my ears made my brain go fuzzy so the voices from Jimmy and the men were dull blunders. The man on the floor was shaking in fear as Jimmy spat words at him, a red mist taking over his eyes.   
Then I saw it. Ryan knew I saw it as his grip on me tightened in an attempt to calm me, but it didn't. It was there. Pulled out from the waistband of Jimmy's jeans and fixed threateningly at the subjects head.  
A gun.  
Silence descended as the voice was ripped from the man's chest, unable to defend himself. Knowing it was pointless. Knowing Jimmy was a cold hearted bastard who reeked turmoil on those who stood in his way. I'd been standing in his way for eight years. The only thing standing in-between me and that gun was Ryan.  
Feeling the chilling air fill my mouth as Ryan dropped his hand to my shoulders, I held my breath. Any moment now.  
As I walked backwards, my footsteps unable to make a sound in the deafening silence that filled the room, I followed wherever Ryan pulled me, unable to detach my eyes from the nose of the gun burning the man's temple.   
I knew he was trying to be fast enough to keep me from seeing, but Ryan had failed, as by the time we had reached the door, the man was laying lifeless, his brains staining the carpet and the ringing of the bullet assaulting every inch of the room with its echoes.   
Ryan took my hand and took off in a sprint, me doing my best to run with him. My legs felt like jelly, my body too in shock to support the sudden sprinting. As we rounded the corner of the back alley, I didn't miss Jimmy burst out of our escape, gun in hand and fire in his eyes.

Charging through the streets, we finally made it to our apartment, both of us leaning back against the door to catch our breath. Neither of us could speak. I had never been so scared, not only because of what I had seen, but because Ryan was scared too. My knight in shining armour who would storm the bridges, sword drawn and sever any head to keep me safe. Armour slowing crumbling as he decided our next move.   
"Go and pack a bag, I'll keep watch." Was all it took for me to empty out a drawer and all the money we'd had hidden in the bedroom into a rucksack. Suddenly there was thud coming from the corridor and strained noises I recognised as Ryan's. Leaving the bedroom, bag over my shoulder, there was Ryan on the floor with Jimmy standing over him in front of the door with a now broken lock. "Jimmy, mate, you know we won't tell anyone." Ryan started. Jimmy wasn't pointing the gun, it was just held limp at his side. All I could do was stand there, my feet glued to the carpet as Ryan got up, holding his hands out to defend himself. "How long have you known me, man? You know you can trust me." There was a pause. Eyes on Jimmy as the twisted cogs in his brain worked over his decision. He looked at me with cold eyes then at Ryan.   
"I do trust you." He said not breaking eye contact with him. I let out a breath. Maybe we could get out of this. Maybe we could live. But then the gun was up, pointing past Ryan and at me. "It's her I don't trust." Before I had time to panic, Ryan had grabbed the hand holding the gun, a bullet firing into the ceiling - the bullet that was meant for me - and tackling Jimmy to the floor. The lights were dim and the two brawled in a blurry mess before my statue-like body, until the gun shot crackled through the air and a sudden stillness was amongst the two.   
No.  
No.  
It couldn't.  
He couldn't.  
Jimmy was moving slightly, dimly unconscious from the blows to his face, but Ryan rolled onto his back and was limp. Darting forward, I collapsed at his side, his chest moving with restless, uneasy pants. The middle of the once grey jumper was glowing crimson, the blood spreading as if to dye the entire thing. A piercing scream ripped from my chest, burning my throat as it did. My hands were trembling. I could barely focus on Ryan's face due to the tears starting to spill from my eyes. My breathing was frantic and harsh as I took his face in my hands. He looked at me, the colour slowly draining from his eyes. He was leaving me. My hero, my angel, my rock, was being ripped from existence.   
"Rosie," he choked, me wiping the tear that fell from his eye with my thumb. "N-never forget that I love you." Sobbing heavily, my head fell, hair brushing his face.  
"I love you, Ryan." The words not sounding like my voice, but the voice of the scared little girl I used to be. The scared little girl that had returned. His lips moved as he tried to speak, but all that came was a grunt. He tried again, but still, nothing. I dipped my head, my ear a millimetre from his lips. "Run." Was his last word, his last breath that burned my skin as it hit.  
I couldn't run. I couldn't move. I couldn't leave him. But I had lived in his world for too long. I knew I had to. Placing a final kiss to his forehead, his skin cold beneath my lips, I brushed back his hair and closed his eyes gently. Looking at his lifeless face, I too felt like I'd had the life stolen from me. It was the grunt of Jimmy that tore me from Ryan and pulled me back into a state of survival. Taking one last look at Ryan's body, I ran to the kitchen, and climbed onto the counter top, forcing the window open where I could step out onto the icy metal railings. Clambering down the fire stairs, my boots, clunked against the metal, thudding against the ground as I jumped the last few.   
I didn't look back. I just ran. My legs felt like lead as I raced through the streets, hearing my footsteps echoing down the lonely roads. No one was in sight. No one was here to help me. The streets were dead. I was alone. Alone and afraid. I thought I heard hurried footsteps close behind me, but I didn't look. I didn't dare look. I was too afraid the barrel of that gun would be the last thing I saw if I did. I just kept running. My head was thudding, my breathing was short and ragged, and I had no idea as to where I was going. Rounding the corner to a road lined with white houses, I slipped as I turned sharply, grazing my knee on the shard-like gravel. Hissing as the blood started to seep out of my skin, I pushed the pain away and forced myself up. My knee was throbbing, but I couldn't risk slowing down. He would catch me.   
I hurtled down the street hoping someone would see me, but there was no one.  
My body grew tired, cold and breathless as I started to slow. I couldn't stop. I had to keep running. But to where? Where could I possibly go now that he was gone?   
There was a light. In the emptiness of the street, the light of someone's home caught my eye. It was the only light on within the next few houses. Help. People. Safety.  
An eruption of hope burst inside me, refusing to let me look back. I ran up the few steps and started banging frantically on the front door, my knuckles surely to be bruised in the morning. That is if I make it until morning. "Please, please, please." I chanted to myself as prayed someone would answer. He'd be here. He'd find me and kill me too. Please answer the door.  
Then there was a jangle of keys, a click of the handle and the door swung open. Safe.

DAN  
A blunt kick to my leg woke me, making me groan into my pillow. I didn't pay much attention to it, so I started drifting off into my peaceful slumber, until it happened again. This kick was harder, sending a sharp stinging to my shin. With a huff I rolled over to see where the assault was coming from, flicking on the sidelight to see Rosie writhing in her sleep. Her cheeks were glowing crimson, a deep frown etched onto her face, looking so dark and frightening compared to her usual softness. Knuckles turning white from clutching at the pillow, she cried out in her sleep, the vicious sound violating my ears from the still of the silence prior to my wake.  
"Rosie?" I said, not quite sure what to do. The pain was evident on her face and it killed me to know I couldn't help her. This wasn't the first time I'd woken up to her thrashing around from the terrifying illusions corrupting her dreams. However, they happened often, too often to just be dreams. I considered if they were memories, but I would never know, because she would never tell me. She would never let me help her through this.  
Her breaths were short and rapid along with small troubled noises escaping her lips. All I could do was watch her, clueless as to what was happing in her brain. She mumbled something, a word maybe, but it was too strained and dull to depict. She tried again, but still, it was inaudible. Then her body went still, completely death-like. The noises stopped, and her breathing was shallow, her legs not lashing out under the covers and her face not contorted into a worried, scared version of herself.   
Carefully, I leant forward, hedging my hand towards her arm. As soon as I pressed my palm to her skin, she suddenly bolted upright, eyes widened in panic, a choked breath sucking in as much air as she could.  
"Ryan!" Was the word that left her mouth in a rushed, frantic panic, before she realised where she was. In all the times I've witnessed her do this, she had never said anything. Not even a word, let alone a name. The name of someone haunting her nights and sometimes her days.   
Pushing my curiousness away, I took hold of her shoulders from behind, her eyes searching the room for some form of familiarity, her head still stuck in her dream, but her eyes showing my room.   
"Rosie, it's me. It's just Dan." She looked at me, her eyes welling up as they hunted through mine to make sense of the illusion. Once she realised where she was and who I was, she seemed almost embarrassed, guilty, even, for waking me. "You're okay now. You're safe." I said and, finally, she took a breath, a tear falling down her cheek which lead the way for the rest of the water to spill from her eyes.   
Laying us down, I held her delicate figure in my arms, her hands gripping my shirt as she sobbed into my chest. I wanted to ask, but I didn't. I couldn't, looking at the state she was in. I intertwined our legs, knowing it would give her some form of comfort, and placed soft kisses on her feathery hair. "You're safe now." I repeated, not letting the strength of my embrace falter.   
I know I had no clue of what was happening, what was making her feel this way, but I needed to protect her, keep her safe. I had to, because who else would? 

In the morning, I'd asked if she was okay. She'd dismissed it as just a bad dream. I knew she was lying. Her face was emotionally drained, her body sluggish as she trudged to the bathroom where I watched her wash away the dried tears that stained her cheeks and brushed out her hair from the tangled mess her tearing at it last night had caused. Putting on her make-up to hide any reminder of the previous night. She remained in the false state of 'fine' for the rest of the day. She could tell by the way I was looking at her that I wanted to ask her something, question her. Who was Ryan? Why does the thought of him cause you so much pain? But before I could, she would just walk away.   
When it was time for Phil and I to leave for the radio show, I was reluctant to leave her on her own. I was worried about her, worried that she may not be here when we returned. But she insisted she'd be fine. So I left. I left her on her own with her thoughts. Big mistake.

ROSIE  
I heard the front door close, a strong sense of regret flooded over me; I should have told him. Why didn't I tell him? The more I pushed him away, the closer I came to losing him, but I couldn't help it. It seemed like every time I had the opportunity to unravel to Dan, my body shut down any source of effort to do so. I needed him to help me get through this, but how could I expect him to if I couldn't get over this barrier?   
I couldn't lose Dan; I had already lost Ryan. Ryan had been the source of my happiness for eight years. He was my saviour. He kept me from danger, protected me, and stood by me with everything I did. I loved him and he loved me. But I took it for granted. I had worshipped the ground he walked on, but never had I thought of walking alone. It had always been the two of us, tackling the world hand in hand, fighting our battles together, and growing old and frail in the embrace of each other’s arms. He had always been my knight, no force in the world strong enough to break his armour. Oh, how I was wrong. He had been stolen from me, stolen from the world. The night of his death, I had been left so cold and broken. I was still broken, remembering the pain of the incident rather than embracing the fact that it couldn’t be changed, leaving an open wound on my heart. Ryan had meant so much to me, he was all I had in the world, leaving me with nothing.   
Then over the last year, with Dan, I began to feel again. Feel happiness. Feel like I wasn't alone, because I wasn't. But how could I expect Dan to fight my battles with me when the battles were raging inside my head? One's he didn't even know the causes of. It was killing him, not knowing, and I wanted nothing more than for him to help me, so I wouldn't have to go through this on my own, but I could never hurt him that way. To trap him in my emotional prison of anxiety and chaos would be the most selfish thing I could ever do, and I loved him too much to do that. I loved him, so I would lose him.

They'd been gone for a while, but I still had a little time to get my act together before they got here. Neither of them were convinced of my wellbeing, they never were, but I had to try. My problems weren't theirs and I wasn't about to make them so. Deciding to go and make a cup of tea, I rolled out of the ball of duvet I was bundled up in Dan's bed, to stand and leave the room. As soon as I walked out of the door, I tripped, my clumsy self-falling over my own feet. I slid across the carpet, the friction burning my knee as I did.  
I thought I heard hurried footsteps close behind me, but I didn't look. I didn't dare look. I was too afraid the barrel of that gun would be the last thing I saw if I did. I just kept running. My head was thudding, making it hard to concentrate on where I was going. Rounding the corner to a road lined with white houses, I slipped as I turned sharply, grazing my knee on the shard-like gravel. Hissing as the blood started to seep out of my skin, I pushed the pain away and forced myself up. My knee was throbbing, but I couldn't risk slowing down. He would catch me.   
My hands flew to grip my hair, a short wail escaping me as the memory flashed through my head. It was loud and buzzing as it lingered in my brain, making it difficult for my eyes to focus. Sitting up against the wall, I clutched my knee, the skin red and inflamed from the carpet, then a dark image clouded my vision, replacing my knee with the bloodied mess I had received that dreaded night, the scratches and scrapes oozing with blood. I scrunched my eyes closed, hands tugging hard at the roots of my hair. Shaking my head violently, I cried out,  
"Make it stop! Make it stop!" I couldn't breathe. The red walls of the violent images tightening around me. Trapping me in a fire of panic, loneliness and pain. The noise of the door opening and closing was distant, almost unreal, but when there were frantic calls of my name, I knew I hadn't imagined it.   
"Rosie!" I recognised as Phil's voice. I opened my eyes to see him, crouched at my side, hands on my shoulder and my arm trying to shake me back to reality.   
"Phil." I tried to call him, but it came out so weak, so faint. "Phil!" I tried again, but it was like my body was detached from my mind. I was too disoriented, trying to hold onto him to stay in reality.  
"I'm here it’s okay. You'll be okay." His voice was soothing, but as he tried to coax me out of the red mist, it only grew stronger, burnt hotter. "Dan!" He called out, looking down the stairs for the other boy. As I gazed down the corridor hoping to see his tall figure emerge from the staircase, the white walls and grey carpet turned to a dirty alley - the alley behind the pub. At the end of it was Ryan, his hand holding out for me to take it. I reached forward, hoping he would pull me to safety, away from the scarlet fog, but as my fingertips brushed his, his body lurched vigorously, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he collapsed on the floor. I cried, screamed out loud, closing my eyes again, but only to see red.   
"Rosie! Rosie!" Dan. He was here. "I'm here."   
"Make it stop! Get them out!" I sobbed loudly, trying to outcry the persistent buzzing of the red.   
"Open your eyes." He said and I shook my head, too scared of what I might see. I felt a warmth press to my cheek, not like the burning of the red, but the soothing warmth of Dan's hand. "I'll make it stop, Rosie, but you need to open your eyes. You need to look at me." So I did. Hesitantly, I blinked my eyes open, not seeing the horrors of before, but only Dan's deep brown orbs staring straight back into mine. "It's going to be okay, I promise. You're safe now." Safe. Physically, maybe. But I was not safe in my head. Not safe from my own thoughts.  
Dan hooked one arm under my knees the other wrapping around my back before he lifted my off the floor of the hallway and carried me back to his room. Once I was on the bed, I curled myself into my little hedgehog ball, as if I was hiding from the world; making myself as small as possible so no one could see me. Dan lay next to me, holding me to his chest as I shook in his arms. The way he brushed his finger across the skin of my arm, drawing small shapes and whispering sweet nothings in my ear calmed me. Somehow, he knew how to settle the demons in my head. And slowly, the fog started to fade, leaving me to bask in the warm glow of Dan's presence. 

DAN  
I watched the pain slowly fade from her eyes, letting me see the intense grey oscillations that I had fallen in love with.   
Seeing her like that had terrified me. Her body trembling alone in the hallway would be an image permanently emblazoned into my brain.   
She looked up at me with a grateful smile, leaning her head up to press her lips to mine. She hummed into the kiss, me pulling her impossibly closer to me, but when she started tugging at the hem of my shirt - her signal for me to take it off - I pulled away. Her eyes were lost, confused, as they searched mine for an answer as to why I stopped.   
"Rosie, we can't. Not after what just happened. You're emotionally vulnerable, and I'm not going to take advantage of you like that." I said and she seemed disappointed. She wasn't thinking right. What kind of person would I be if I had sex with her when moments ago she was having a panic attack in my hallway?  
"Please." She said, her fingers pulling gently at my shirt. "You're not taking advantage. I just need to feel normal." She pulled me ever so slightly closer, me deciding whether or not to protest. The desperation in her eyes was too much for me to handle along with her fingernails lightly grazing my stomach. "Please. Please, Dan, I need this. I need you." So I let her. I let her remove my shirt, remove all our clothes, her hands still shaking slightly as she did.   
It felt so wrong, the images of her crying and screaming out for help still present in my mind as she kissed me and pushed me down onto my back. Yet it felt so right, how could it not, our bodies merging so naturally, her touches so passionate and fervent. Then I realised I was letting her use me. Again. She said it herself; she needed to feel normal and this was how she did it. I couldn't complain, I mean, what more could I ask for from the girl I loved? Oh yeah, for her to actually love me back. I needed more than sex. I needed an emotional tether, a real bond between us. For as much as I loved being able to touch her and hold her and have her, it felt so wrong, so dirty to think that in the end, it would mean nothing. I'm not that kind of guy who sleeps around and has emotionless sex with random people for fun. It hurt me to pretend that she loved me, for me to reach the inevitable conclusion that all I am to her is a plaster, a band-aid covering up the open wound that still bled inside of her heart.


	3. Part 3

Part 3

ROSIE  
An empty bed was what I woke up to, the soundly sleeping Dan I was used to watching so fondly each morning, gone. I slipped out from under the duvet, the cold air of the room attacking my bare skin once I had lost the warmth of the bed. Too cold to walk around in my underwear and a t-shirt, I found some jeans and one of Dan's jumpers, before going to find Dan in his spontaneous early wake.  
Finding him in the kitchen with his back to me, he was making three cups of tea - my usual morning ritual. Something about him, the atmosphere of the room, was off.  
"Hey," I said, getting his attention by standing in his peripheral vision. He looked up and smiled at me, looking straight through me as he did. "What are you doing?" I asked as he returned to making the tea, hoping he would understand the confusion of the situation.  
"Making tea." No shit. Something is wrong and I want to know what. Or maybe I was over thinking things.  
"But that's my job." I smiled, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek into the centre of his shoulder blades. He didn't answer. He didn't even smile, instead just carried on as if I weren't there. Huffing, I let go of him, stepping backwards to lean on the opposite counter. "Okay, what's wrong?" I asked.  
"Nothing." He mumbled, not even bothering to turn around. What was he doing? Why was he being like this? It's usually me who acts like- oh. I see what he's doing.  
"Dan, look at me!" I said, getting frustrated. I understood he was trying to make me feel how he must've done every morning when asking what's wrong with me, but that wasn't fair. He wasn't the one dealing with the panic attacks, the nightmares, the mental breakdowns. He turned around, a blank expression on his face. "What's your problem?" I asked, wondering why he was approaching this in such a cruel way.  
"What was wrong with you last night?" He asked, completely ignoring my question.  
"It doesn't matter," I dismissed and he rolled his eyes. "Answer the question. What's your problem?"  
"That's exactly my problem, Rosie!" He said, raising his voice. I was taken back by his sudden assertiveness and frowned at him. "Do you know how hard it is for me to come home and see you like that? It terrifies me to leave you alone and it kills me that you won't let me help you. Every time, it's always 'it doesn't matter' or 'it's not important'. Why do you always lie to me? What are you not telling me?"  
I couldn't speak. I knew it hurt him, but he'd never been this honest. I didn't realise how much he'd been holding in. Holding in so he wouldn't upset me. I couldn't blame him for being so blunt. I'd driven him to this.  
"Why do you want to know so much?" I said, my voice timid, yet loud. I wasn't ready to tell him. Not yet.  
"Because I barely know you. You just randomly show up on my doorstep one day with hardly any explanation and make me fall head-over-heels in love with you when you're still practically a stranger to me. Why won't you let me help you? Just let me in, Rosie!" I couldn't look at him. He was so upset. It hurt me to think I'd caused him this pain.  
"You can't help me." I said quietly, tears brimming in my eyes. I avoided his gaze, looking solemnly at the floor. I started biting my nails, a nervous habit I had always had, unable to stop myself as I nibbled at the rough edges. Dan sighed, his hands covering his face as he tilted his head back in frustration.  
"Who's Ryan?" He asked out of nowhere, making my head snap up at the name. How did he know? I'd never told him.  
"W-what-"  
"You shout his name in your sleep." He answered my unasked question as I stood there speechless. How could he bring Ryan into this? My breath caught in my throat as I suppressed the tears threatening to spill. I couldn't cry. I had to stay strong. If I cried it would only make this situation worse. "Who is he, Rosie?" He asked again and I glared at him, not giving him an answer. "He's the one you dream about, isn't he?" His eyes never left mine as I stayed silent, making him ask more tedious questions. "What did he do to you, Rosie? What happened to him? Where is he? Did you love him? Do you still love him? Is that why you won't love me?"  
"Stop it!" I screamed, bringing his reel of questions to a halt. My hands rubbed at my eyes, me shaking my head as I paced short distances, tears reluctantly falling down my cheeks. "Why are you being like this? Why are you acting like such a prick?" I shouted at him.  
"Because I can't take another day waking up next to a stranger. I'm clearly wasting my time loving you because you're never going to feel that way about me. Not whilst Ryan, or whoever he is, is still controlling your heart." And that was it. That was all it took for me to walk out of the kitchen, down the stairs, quickly tugging on my Vans before walking out of the house. I heard Dan running down the stairs, his protests of me leaving just a background noise as I slammed the door behind me. I couldn't stay trapped in that room, the questions, the hurt in his eyes, knowing I was its cause. So I walked down the street, the crisp November air making me wish I had more than this jumper to keep me warm.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I trudged up the paved hill to the gate at the top. Those all-too-familiar black, steel bars, trapping the dead inside them. I slipped through the gap in the middle and followed the path I have travelled many times before. My secret visits to the graveyard were always on a Sunday night when Dan and Phil had their radio show. I'd sneak out and come here for an hour, cry and scream and let out all my built up emotions, then pick up some pizza on the way home.  
Eight up and twelve across, counting like I always did until I reached the dull grey stone with Ryan's name on it. Clearly, no-one had been to visit lately as the only flowers here were the one's I'd left a couple of weeks ago, now shrivelled up and rotting just as my heart felt whenever I came up here.   
No matter what the season, it was always cold here. Always cold like that night I lost him. The trees blocked the sun out, as if they were scared that the warm rays will take away the depression and sadness that lurked within the darkness. I looked down at the stone with dead eyes. 'Someone's guardian angel', it read. My guardian angel. He always had been, and I don't doubt for a minute he stopped protecting me once he left. It's just different now.  
"I miss you." I said, the crisp air swirling in front of me as I spoke. I was too emotionally drained to cry right now. I crouched down and tossed away the dying flowers I'd left there. I'd been coming up here in secret for months. I had had to wait until things had settled down. Until people had forgotten about me. To be honest, I was waiting until I had the courage to come up. Living with Dan and Phil had been amazing, surreal almost. As If they were a dream and I was doing my best to not wake up. Because I knew I would have to wake up and face this. Face the death of the only man I had trusted myself to love.   
I turned and sat down, leaning back against the headstone. It was cold against my back, but I didn't feel it. I didn't feel much when I had to remember.   
I sat in silence for a while, recalling all the memories I had of Ryan. The one's where it was just us. Where nothing else mattered. Where I was happy. God, I wish I could've brought Dan with me. I hate being on my own. My thoughts were dangerous when I'm on my own. Dan helped me forget. He helped me feel things again. He's the closest I came to happiness. Everything about him radiated sunshine, light at the end of the tunnel.  
The first few nights, yeah, I thought about leaving, living on the run by myself for the rest of my life, but there was something about Dan that kept me grounded. Even within those first days of us getting to know each other, I'd seen Ryan in him. As if Ryan had lead me to him that night. I was not strong, I was not courageous and I was not as independent as I'd liked to have been. As much as it shamed me to admit it, I needed a protector. I had Ryan from such a young age of neglect, I latched on to him and became dependant. I couldn't function without that one person to hold my heart for me. I knew it was Dan. After a year of messing around with him, I felt myself falling, each and every day. Falling deeper and deeper into the abyss to which I wanted never to enter again. I knew I loved Dan, but not in the same way I loved Ryan. I couldn't do that to Ryan. He was my saviour, my knight. It would be an insult to copy that feeling with someone else.  
No, Dan was special. He wasn't a replacement for Ryan, someone to fill the void. He was my rehab, the treasure at the end of my hunt for peace. But I would never be able to feel peace. No matter how hard I'd fall for Dan, I would always live in constant fear of the same thing happening.   
Everywhere I went, people disintegrated. My parents: I caused their marriage to crumble. Ryan: I caused his strife with Jimmy. Anyone that I cared about or loved would crash and burn. I wouldn't ever do that to Dan.  
But you're already doing it.  
I knew Dan needed more than what I could give him. I think, deep down, he knew how I felt, but he needed honesty and a relationship with no secrets. He needed someone who wasn't going to hurt him. I couldn't be that girl. "What do I do Ryan?" I said to myself, looking up at the grey smudge of a sky. "Even if I do tell him the truth, he'll either run away now or later. I don't know which would be worse." Then the tears started to fall.  
It hurt so much, knowing what I was doing to Dan. It hurt keeping such a big secret about my past. It hurt me lying to him every day when I said I was fine. I'm not fine.   
It had been a year since the horror of that night. A year since I had my heart ripped to pieces. How could I let go of Ryan? I didn't know how to let go and quit mourning. A whole fucking year. I was still having nightmares and panic attacks and flashbacks.   
I couldn't lose Dan as well as Ryan, but what was I supposed to do?   
Bringing my knees to my chest to stay warm, I suddenly noticed a tiny white daisy growing from the base of the stone. I was so awe-stricken by its beauty that I actually cracked a smile through the tears, plucking the flower from the ground and twirling it between my fingers.   
Ryan.   
This was Ryan.  
He was telling me what to do. It was a strange feeling. A feeling that I wasn't alone. A warmth that enveloped my heart and in that moment, I knew everything would be okay somehow.   
A flood of adrenaline ran through me, making me jolt up and clutch the daisy to my chest. I looked up to the skies and mouthed a 'thank you', before dusting the dirt from my jeans and started to walk away. As I did, I turned to look at the grave one last time. "I'll never stop loving you, Ryan. I promise." 

"Dan!" I called as closed the door behind me. There was no response, which made me worried. Was he not speaking to me? I wouldn't blame him if he was. "Dan!" I called again as I walked into the lounge. Not here. Then I turned to a shuffle coming from the doorway to see Dan in the corridor, coat and shoes on and a duffel bag over his shoulder. "Where are you going?"  
"I'm leaving." He said, his voice monotone.  
"Why?"   
"Because I can't do this anymore, Rosie." My stomach dropped. What did he mean? Was he leaving me? No, this couldn't be happening again!  
"What? Dan, what do you mean? Are you leaving me?" My heartbeat quickened, the familiar feeling of panic setting in.  
"I'm staying with a friend for a few days to give you enough time to sort your things out. I'd leave for good, but it is my house. We'll support you on your way, but I can't see you anymore Rosie." His voice was calm, emotionless, making my heart ache even more. He wasn't angry or upset. Just... calm. Too calm. He'd thought this through. He really didn't want me.  
"Why? Is this about earlier because I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left, but I... please, Dan... What can I do?" I asked frantically. I wanted to pace, stress about, kick something, but my body was frozen.  
"Nothing. You don't need to do anything. I can't keep saying that I love you and pretending that you say it back to me. I can't keep kidding myself anymore." His eyes started to well up, the first sign of feeling I saw in him. My breathing was ragged and I did my best to keep it under control, but the thought of losing Dan triggered something to bring on the panic attack. It was happening again, except this time he was willingly leaving. Of course, my body's natural reaction was to combust.  
"No... Dan... You can't leave me. You can't... I... I need you." I said, taking a heavy step towards him. He frowned, a single tear rolling down his cheek.  
"Then why won't you love me?!" He yelled in frustration. He didn't understand, but what could I say?  
"Because... I... I do. You know that." I defended, hoping he'd realise. Realise that I was fucked up and needed help. Realise that I needed him.  
"Then why won't you say it?"  
"Why do you need me to?"  
"Because I just do Rosie! I need to hear you say it. How else am I supposed to know how you feel? I can't keep waking up next to you and feeling like your using me for sex or to fill some emotionless hole you have." Emotionless hole. Ryan. Dan. Oh god. Not now. He didn't seem to notice me swaying a little as my erratic breathing caused me to go dizzy.  
"Dan...” I tried to speak, but it came out as a mutter.  
"I can't keep falling in love with you Rosie. It hurts too much to know you won't be there to catch me."   
The middle of the once grey jumper was glowing crimson, the blood spreading as if to dye the entire thing. A deafening scream ripped from my chest, burning my throat as it did.  
"Agghh!" Clutching my head, I staggered backwards. Dan suddenly stopped talking and looked at me confused.  
"Rosie?" He said, but it just echoed through my head, my brain not registering that it was my name.  
He looked at me, the colour slowly draining from his eyes. He was leaving me. My hero, my angel, my rock, was being ripped from existence.   
"Rosie," he choked, me wiping the tear that fell from his eye with my thumb. "N-never forget that I love you." Sobbing heavily, my head fell, hair brushing his face.  
"Stop it!" I cried, tears spilling from my eyes as I spun in panic. In fear. Dan ran forward, dropping his bag as he reached out to catch me as I fell, but he missed me. Clattering to the floor, I felt a sudden dull pain shoot across my head. I looked at him, but didn't see him. It felt like I was looking through him. The air in the room started to strangle me, tightening with every breath I tried to take.  
"I love you, Ryan." The words not sounding like my voice, but the voice of the scared little girl I used to be. The scared little girl that had returned.  
"Ryan." I breathed and with that, everything faded to black, the panic in Dan's eyes being the last thing I saw.

DAN  
"Rosie." That was Ryan's voice. I opened my eyes to the blinding whiteness of wherever I was. Looking around, I was in the pub that Ryan's family owned except the walls were white, the counter was white, and it actually looked clean. The only colour in the room was the different bottles of alcohol that decorated the shelves behind the bar. And Ryan. He was standing behind it, whilst I stood in the doorway. I tried walking closer to him, to touch him. He looked so real, but how could that be? As I stood in front of the bar, him behind it, he gestured for me to take a seat on the crystal white barstool, so I did.  
"Ryan, what's going on? I'm so confused." I said as he pulled out a couple of shot glasses and filled them with a clear liquid. Tequila? I don't know, but I drank it. As the burn of my throat caused me to cough, I realised it was definitely tequila.  
"You hit your head. You passed out." He replied, his voice sounding so present. I missed the sound of his voice. The way it warmed my heart every time I heard it was one of the things I missed most about him.  
"So this is a dream?" I said and he chuckled.  
"Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Sarcastic little shit. I smiled, everything feeling oddly normal. "Now, what are we going to do when you wake up?" He said and I frowned.  
"I don't want to wake up. I want to stay here. With you." He laughed again, his shoulders hunching as he did so.  
"You can't, silly. It's not real. If you don't wake up, then you could probably die meaning you wouldn't have the mental capability to dream me up, so you're back at square one. Besides, you have Dan now." He said, and I sighed sadly.  
"He hates me. He was leaving me. He probably won't even be there when I wake up." I said and he raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if I was stupid.  
"Rosie, were you listening to anything he said? He loves you."  
"Then why was he leaving me?" I said, feeling the tears start to gather behind my eyes.  
"Because you won't let yourself get over me." He said and he was right. I looked down at my lap, ashamed of what I had driven myself to. "Rosie, you need to let it go. I'm dead. I'm not coming back, but neither is Jimmy. He can't hurt you, not anymore. You need to start standing up to your nightmares, take control of the memories. The more you keep suppressing them, the more they're going to hurt you. If you embrace your past rather than running away, then, in time, all it will be is a memory rather than a demon trying to chase you. If you stop running, then so will the demon." I looked up at him, looked deep into his striking blue eyes.  
"But what will Dan think? I don't want to scare him off. By not telling him, I've been protecting him." Ryan shook his head, wiping away the tear falling down my cheek with his thumb.  
"No, Rosie, you've been hurting him. And it needs to stop. You didn't do anything wrong, he's not going to hate you because of Jimmy being a dick."   
"But it's my fault why you died. He was going to kill me, not you."  
"I died because I was protecting you like I always have done. If he'd have killed you that night, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself knowing I could've saved you." I sobbed at his words, the truth being so hard to hear. I' been blaming myself for so long, I still did. But knowing Ryan would've hurt just as much as I have been doing if I'd have died, was so much worse than me hurting. "Rosie, you've been wishing for a knight in shining armour to come and rescue you for so long, but it's almost as if you're too scared to get on the horse with him. Dan can help you, he can rescue you, just let him!"  
"But I can't forget you! Don't you see? The longer I think about you, the more I push Dan away." I cried, running a hand through my hair.  
"I'm not asking you to forget," His voice was soft, calming, bringing me down from my hysteria. "I'm asking you to move on. I was the one that died that day, Rosie, not you. You kept your life, and for what? To shut yourself down and string that poor guy along for a year. You're fucking head over heels for him, so why won't you tell him?"  
"Because I still love you." My voice was weak and shaky, a dizzy feeling descending. Maybe my body was ready to wake up. But I wasn't ready to leave Ryan.  
"You always will. You don't have to stop loving me to love him. I'm gone, never coming back. I'm the man who will always be in your heart. But don't deny yourself a chance of happiness. Don't you dare not love again, because I refuse to watch you live your life in fear of your own head. I swear to god, Rosie, if you don't wake up soon and tell that boy everything he deserves to know, I will rise from my grave and shake your ass awake for you." He said with a smile. I laughed through the tears, wiping my hands over my face to rid me of my sorrows. Ryan was right. What was the point in him dying if I'm not going to live the life he gave me?   
"I'll always love you. You know that." I said to him, standing up from the bar stool and straightening out my clothes. Looking deep into his eyes one last time, they twinkled as they always did, not a bad emotion or memory crossing them.  
"And I will always be in your heart. Never forget that."  
"I won't"

My head was pounding with such intensity, it felt like there was a hornet’s nest inside it. Still feeling fuzzy from the dream, I lifted my head up and opened my eyes. The lights were dim in Dan's bedroom, for which I was grateful for, as they didn't blind me as I looked around. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders, my new found confidence scaring away the demons that always lurked in the back of my mind. I felt enlightened as I watched Dan at his desk, tapping away on his laptop, not yet realising I was awake. I shuffled in the covers, lifting myself to sit up against the headboard. He turned around, swivelling in his chair, eyes widening when he saw me looking at him. He came and sat on the edge of the bed, the back of his hand pressing against my forehead, probably taking my temperature.  
"How are you feeling?" He asked, looking at me intently.  
"My head hurts, but I'm good." I said. My voice was hoarse, making me cough a little before getting my breath back.   
"I'm so happy you're awake. The doctor said if you didn't wake up within the next ten minutes they'd come and take you to the hospital." He said, with a light chuckle.  
"You called the hospital?" I asked, brushing my hair back out of my face.  
"You hit your head pretty hard. You could have had a head trauma or something." We laughed lightly, both of us avoiding the serious conversation that was inevitably going to come. We were silent for a few seconds, Dan glancing around his room awkwardly.  
"To be honest, I didn't expect you to still be here when I woke up." I said, drawing his attention to me. He frowned as he looked at me, nudging my legs over so he could turn and sit properly on the bed.  
"Why wouldn't I be here?" He looked confused, upset that I would accuse him of ditching me at a time like this.  
"You were leaving me. I thought you didn't care-"  
"Rosie, I was leaving because I cared. I cared way too much. I still fucking care. I'm so sorry about those things I said, I wasn-"  
"No, I'm sorry," I cut him off, not wanting to hear his apology. He had nothing to apologise for. "I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for this last year, I'm sorry for keeping secrets. I was scared. Scared of hurting you, scared off everything inside my head. I was scared of my past catching up with me, but I'm done pretending like it didn't happen. I'm sorry I've been such a shitty friend to you. A shitty girlfriend if that's what I was. From now on, I promise there'll be no more secrets. No more lies. You've put up with my bullshit for so long, you deserve to know the truth." I said, adrenaline rushing through me with the thought of telling him. Was it weird to think I was excited about telling him? I was excited to let go, I'd been waiting for so long, but never knowing how. Telling Dan might not fix things, but it sure was a good start.  
"Rosie, I don't want to pressure you into telling me. If you're not ready-"  
"I am ready. I've been ready for so long, I just wouldn't let myself. I've already nearly let you slip through my fingers once. I'm not letting that happen again." I said and he smiled. He ran a hand through his hair before looking at me gratefully, his face flooding with relief. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. I'll never hide anything from you ever again, I promise."  
"Anything?" He said, raising an eyebrow.  
"Anything."  
"Well, start from the beginning I guess." So I did. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, the words tumbling out, finally escaping into the freedom they had wished for for so long.   
It took a while, but I told him every last detail. About Ryan, about Jimmy, about my parents. And he listened. He never interrupted me, he never made judge-y comments. He just sat and listened, absorbing my words that he had waited so long to hear.   
He was so happy, telling me how grateful he was that I trusted him, that I finally let him in. He could help me, now. Slowly, as I was talking, the wound on my heart started to heal, no longer covered by the band-aid.   
We talked late into the night, the both of us eventually growing tired. Cuddling up under the covers, he held me tight, my hands pressed to his chest as his deep breaths blew over my face. He was quick to fall asleep, but I managed to stay awake a little longer to admire the beauty of his face. How did I get so lucky that night he saved me? He literally saved me. Without him, I would have been dead a long time ago. It was the way he understood me was what made me fall for him. However, throughout the conversation, I had never confessed my love for him. I felt he had taken so much in, that it would overwhelm him if I did. I could wait until tomorrow.   
"Dan." I whispered, getting no response. "Dan." I whispered again, a little louder. He was definitely asleep, so what harm would it do? "I love you." I said, the words falling effortlessly from my mouth. A sudden sense of relief washed over me, I'd been holding back those words for too long, it felt so good to release them, even if he couldn't hear me.  
"I love you too." Suddenly came from his lips, his classic smile following them. Wasn't he asleep? He opened his eyes, looking at me and laughing softly to himself.  
"I thought you were asleep." I said, a deep crimson blush heating my cheeks as I covered my face from embarrassment.  
"You thought wrong." He said, taking hold of my hands and pulling them from my face forcing me to look at him. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that." Then he kissed me. Our lips locked together in a loving, deep expression of our feelings. Then I realised, this was all I had to do to let go. To let myself love again was enough to overpower the feelings of sorrow and fear I felt nearly every day. Dan really could save me. He was my saviour, my angel, my knight in shining armour. Taking on the world together, just me and him, fighting our demons hand in hand. Together we would turn those nightmares into memories, just like Ryan had said. Together, we would love open and wholeheartedly. Together, we were taking back my armour.


End file.
